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Love Returned
He sits across me in a foetal position.
He doesn’t look up, no matter how many times I try and call out to him. My words seem to bounce off the cocoon he’s formed around himself.
I need to find another way of reaching out to him.
“God made you a beautiful garden”, my grandmother once said to me, “don’t ever be afraid to give a flower away once in a while”.
I’m down to my last one. It’s a beautiful yellow rose.I’ve always picked one in hope that one would grow in its place, but this hasn’t been the case. It’s my last one, but he needs it. I wince as I pick the rose from the now bare rosebush. “I have something for you” I call out, but he doesn’t respond. I pluck one of the petals and slide it towards him. He moves his head up slightly peeking above his arms. He looks at the petal with confusion in his eyes. The little hope that had gripped my heart disappears as he re-buries his head in his arms again. I pluck another petal and slide it towards him. Again he peeks up – a bit longer this time – and for the first time I see a cloud of over-whelming sorrow in his eyes before he hides behind his arms again. I grow worn out with every effort of trying to reach out to him. With my last bit of strength I pluck the last petal. I look at it through worn out, blood-shot eyes. I’m giving away the last part of myself that I know I will never get back. This might all be in vain. This thought leaves me even more exhausted.
He peeks at the assembly of petals before him. The petals form a face that he hasn’t seen in a while. He sees a man with a smile that reaches eyes that carry an unbroken soul. He sees his former self.
“You can be him again” I whisper with a weary smile.
Slowly he unfolds his arms and legs and gets up. He walks towards me, goes down on his knees, cradles my face with his hands, and kisses my forehead. “Thank you” he whispers as he places something into my hand and closes my fingers over it. I uncurl my fingers and see what’s at the centre of my palm.
It’s a seed. My eyes widen as I watch it sprout into a beautiful red rose.
He doesn’t look up, no matter how many times I try and call out to him. My words seem to bounce off the cocoon he’s formed around himself.
I need to find another way of reaching out to him.
“God made you a beautiful garden”, my grandmother once said to me, “don’t ever be afraid to give a flower away once in a while”.
I’m down to my last one. It’s a beautiful yellow rose.I’ve always picked one in hope that one would grow in its place, but this hasn’t been the case. It’s my last one, but he needs it. I wince as I pick the rose from the now bare rosebush. “I have something for you” I call out, but he doesn’t respond. I pluck one of the petals and slide it towards him. He moves his head up slightly peeking above his arms. He looks at the petal with confusion in his eyes. The little hope that had gripped my heart disappears as he re-buries his head in his arms again. I pluck another petal and slide it towards him. Again he peeks up – a bit longer this time – and for the first time I see a cloud of over-whelming sorrow in his eyes before he hides behind his arms again. I grow worn out with every effort of trying to reach out to him. With my last bit of strength I pluck the last petal. I look at it through worn out, blood-shot eyes. I’m giving away the last part of myself that I know I will never get back. This might all be in vain. This thought leaves me even more exhausted.
He peeks at the assembly of petals before him. The petals form a face that he hasn’t seen in a while. He sees a man with a smile that reaches eyes that carry an unbroken soul. He sees his former self.
“You can be him again” I whisper with a weary smile.
Slowly he unfolds his arms and legs and gets up. He walks towards me, goes down on his knees, cradles my face with his hands, and kisses my forehead. “Thank you” he whispers as he places something into my hand and closes my fingers over it. I uncurl my fingers and see what’s at the centre of my palm.
It’s a seed. My eyes widen as I watch it sprout into a beautiful red rose.
Published 26th Sep 2015
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